She moves across the sky,
silken sails billowing with light
bright ivory next to midnight.
Stars all around,
dancing though the dark
life radiating from each little spark.
Mysteries revealed,
if just for a while
hiding within the Moon's secret smile.
~For the Theme of Spring, a Mysterious Jar
You’re spinning by
Too fast for me to hold you
My arms are reaching, my hands are grasping
You’re passing me by my fingertips
You are glowing,
Glowing like the moon is within your skin
You laugh and pass me by
Like mist in the hills
There mist lays white-brushed clouds
Yet it’s unreachable
Your wings are silver
Glimmering like a fish’s tail
I watched the moon. I watched it wax and wane
I watched it take on different shapes.
I watched it thin, I watched it grow,
and somehow it felt good to know
Every night is not the same.
The weather and the seasons change.
They measure the tides that go in and out
they know how to predict the clouds.
There are scientific names for phases,
a term for each way the moon looks and changes.
They name the waters, they name the stars
they view the world from inside their cars.
The moon's soft glow falls on the ground
As the clouds gather to extinguish it's light
The silver lamp shines as the dark gathers 'round
To quiet the beauty of the slow-drifting night
The clouds envelope the diadem
Of radiant blue rock
But the beam plays patterns on the hem
While in the haze it's locked
But the dark cannot hold it in
And so gives up and floats away
While the faithful moon, of the old
Lights the earth the ancient way
Moonlight splendor
Starlight radiance
Glowing, gazing
Upon land beneath.
Blue dark sky
Dwindling light
Enchanted silver
All of white.
Oh, moonbeams sing
Oh, silent your song
Oh, calm your voice
Oh frolic along!
Sparkling in the moonlight
And shaded by the trees
Silent as the stars
Glittering like the night.
Looking upon
The face of the moon
Its petals shining
And wind creeping through
The silver flower
Of the glowing midnight.
That light, high in sky
The moon, it’s glowing
Brightness capturing my eyes
Its beaming softness
Turned its ways, to a land
Covered in the shadow of
Night
The moon of fair, sky of blue
Surround my sleeping world
The silent, still darkness
Tick, tick, tick
of the kitchen clock
Shadows and quiet
Moonbeams through the window
drenching the smooth floor
in silver
Soft carpet,
hushed wind,
dark room
illuminated by colored lights
yellow and blue and red and green
strung around, weaving along the branches
of a tall evergreen
Twinkling silver and gold
hung on every bough
Glowing, magical
Soundless, beautiful
mysterious, wonder
Many have slept, but not all
Many have awakened, but not all
The world never sleeps?
Not all
As the sun rises, it sets
As the sun sets, it rises
As the moon rises, it sets
As the moon sets, it rises
So tell me, dear, does the world sleep?
Does it rest, so not a thing is awake?
But you have said: the sun always rises
Always sets
The world is always awake
The world is always asleep
How can that be?
It can be
Because the world is a ball
She was sitting by the window,
the night the moon fell down,
she was watching the stars go streaking
across the smooth black sky,
like long-legged creatures
skimming the surface of the water
the night the moon fell down
He fell from the sky
and his half-shadowed face
glowed pale in the streetlight
his icy blue eyes
glinting coldly below
the window where she watched
the night the moon fell down
In his eyes she beheld
the anger and fear
that he felt, and he shivered
here on the ground